


Fog Canyon

by Soar319



Series: Quirrel's Locations [5]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Memory Loss, kind of sad, more quirrel backstory, uoma and ooma love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 23:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17435141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soar319/pseuds/Soar319
Summary: “W-W-Wait!” The ooma jetted forward and latched on, making him take one more step back to try to balance out the weight.His foot slipped along the edge, all of them letting go. The cavern ceilings rushed into view, his heart skipping a beat. Quirrel squeezed his eyes shut as his shell hit the acidic waters with a sickening splash. The burn, the sensation of being disintegrated into chunks-… Never came.





	Fog Canyon

**Author's Note:**

> Another location, another memory.

Traversing Fog Canyon was difficult, on account of the edges of terrain being worn down to a slick surface due to the acid. A wrong step could send a careless traveler tripping face-first into a vat of bubbling acid, a death that Quirrel was quite sure nobody wanted. He hopped from ledge to ledge as if all the platforms were already mapped out in his head, cutting aside thick foliage with a swing of his nail to reveal hidden paths. He doesn't know _how_ he knows the pathways of Hallownest so well - one of the few mysteries that he chalked up to relating to his past.

He had noticed that the uomas and oomas were quite interested in him, to the point of being strangely affectionate. When he first entered Fog Canyon, they swarmed him in such numbers he raced down the canyons and dove into Queen's Station. But when he peeked out, they merely nuzzled up against him, floating up and down excitedly.

When he showed discomfort in them being so affectionate, they strayed away and kept their distance. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little bad.

Quirrel walked down the overgrown trails, cutting away particularly gnarly obstacles and leaping over rivets of acid. He had noticed that this time, the jellyfish were particularly trailing nearby, peeking out behind coral and foliage. A few floated over, bumping into him. He smiled and gave them a little wave; perhaps he can make a better impression this time?

“Hello there!” He greeted, giving the nearest one a gentle pat on the head. They all froze, cores pulsating. He retracted his hand slightly; did he do something wrong? “A-Ah, I apologize if that was a little weird-” It immediately shoved itself back into his palm, nuzzling against the surface. He chuckled as he gave a more thorough petting, a few other uomas drifting closer.

A pat for you, a pat for you, and a pat for you. Quirrel felt a little more daunted with an ooma caught interest, making sure to be extra gentle as to not scratch the top of his claws across the jelly-like membrane.

“I apologize if I was scared of you guys initially.” He said, continuing his walk. They trailed behind him like a flock of maskflies, bumping clumsily every once in a while. Emerging out to a large acid lake, he listened to the crackling and hissing, taking extra notice of where he was stepping. The uomas began to bump into him a little more. He readjusted his balance with a little laugh.

They bumped into him again, floating in front. He slowed down his walk.

“Is something of the matter?” The uomas’ cores pulsated, one wrapping its tentacles around his arm. Quirrel blinked, feeling another latch on. “W-What are you guys doing?” Another grabbed his claws as two more latched on his leg. He tried to peel them off, stumbling closer towards the lake. More and more uomas began to appear, all wrapping their tentacles around his body.

Glancing back, he widened his eyes as the edge was only a few more steps away, flailing his arm in hopes a few would let go already.

“W-W-Wait!” The ooma jetted forward and latched on, making him take one more step back to try to balance out the weight.

His foot slipped along the edge, all of them letting go. The cavern ceilings rushed into view, his heart skipping a beat. Quirrel squeezed his eyes shut as his shell hit the acidic waters with a sickening splash. The burn, the sensation of being disintegrated into chunks-

… Never came.

He wondered if the acid was so strong that he died upon impact. If he opened his eyes, would he see white? Or would this… shock, this pause, end and send his entire body into spasms of pain?

His eyes flutter open in hesitation, and stares right into the face of an uoma.

The water bubbles around him, pale green as always. His shell tingled only slightly, but did not burn. It did not burn at all.

_Her blessing… her blessing…_

“S… Sorry?” Quirrel froze as he spoke, no acid flooding into his mouth. Bubbles came out, his body still taking in oxygen. The uoma floated closer, the core tilting slightly.

 _Back… back…_ More uomas emerged, circling around him. Quirrel felt a little more wary, resting his claws around the nail handle. They did not move away, nor move any closer.

_Back… you’re back…_

_You’re back… you’re back…_

“Have we met before?” He tentatively asked. His eye twitched as he felt a bit of a headache beginning to squirm in; perhaps soaking in acid wasn’t the best idea. Should he begin to head for the surface?

 _Quirrel…_ He stopped, turning back to the uoma. The headache worsened, the voices echoing louder. They circled him more, watching him, _watching_ him.

 _Quirrel…_ He lowered his hand on his nail, reaching out and cupping the uoma. The tips of his claws rested on the membrane as soft as the petals of the delicate flower, hardly daring to grip more than what was necessary. The acid bubbled around him, hissing softly. Quirrel neither rose or sank, the bubbles bypassing him as the uomas circled even closer, their cores pulsating.

 _Quirrel…_ He closed his eyes and held the uoma close, the headache seemingly beginning to melt away.

_Quirrel…_

_Quirrel…_

_“Quirrel, I have a question for you.” They walked - or he walked, she floated - down the trail, her cloak billowing behind her gracefully as always. He held his tablet and quill against his chest, at the ready to write down any observations or notes they may come across._

_“What is it, Madam?”_

_“... Hallownest is dying, you know that, right?” He lowered his gaze, the tip of his pen scraping alongside the edge of the tablet._

_“Yes… Yes, I know.” They stopped by the large acid lake, the uomas and oomas floating right on over. Quirrel chuckled as the uomas nuzzled right on up, giving as many as he could a little pat on the head. They always loved seeking attention from him. She lowered herself into the lake, curling her tentacles around her. “But the King found a solution, right? One that… didn’t involve chil-”_

_“Vessels.” She corrected. She lowered her gaze. “... We are no longer creating them. Do not worry.” She murmured. The ooma bumped up against him. He gave it a little pat as well._

_They relaxed in silence, the acid fizzing away. He dipped his feet into the waters, her blessings keeping him safe from getting any burns. It lightly tingled his shell, the uomas tugging him further in. He glanced at her._

_“How long do we have before we need to return to the Archives?”_

_“As long as you’d like.” He blinked. She raised her head slightly. “As long as you’d like, Quirrel.” She quietly repeated, going back to staring at the water’s surface. He swam over, resting a hand on her cloak._

_“Is something wrong, Madam?”_

_“... Do you like exploring?” He was a little confused at the sudden question, nodding._

_“I love exploring, it lets me find new species, creatures, pathways, it’s lovely!” He said. It was the truth, he adored exploring and observing a world not yet understood by him. “Why?” She didn’t speak, just staring at her reflection. Quirrel wondered why she paused so much today, it was most unlike her usual self. “Is everything alright, Madam?”_

_No response._

_He stayed by her side until she rose up from the pool, the uomas and oomas automatically parting. They glanced at him. He patted their heads, waving goodbye; he received several back in return as he walked side by side with her, tablet and quill left behind. His nail rested against his side, tapping against his leg every fifth step._

_They walked down the trail, arriving at the entrance of the Archives._

_“Madam?” She silently raised a tentacle and resting it in his palm. He escorted her down the stairs, her cloak trailing behind. The King’s guards parted, Quirrel lowering his head in respect for the King. He had no desire to sneak a glance at them, nor was he interested. The weight in his hand suddenly increased. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes._

_She stared ahead._

_Lowering her tentacle and advancing towards the King, she bowed her head. Quirrel kept his distance, staring at the floor._

_“Everything is in order?”_

_“Yes, your Majesty.” She murmured._

_“Everything?”_

_“... Yes.” He blinked. Why did her voice falter? She never faltered in front of important figures, never never. “Quirrel?” He hurried to her side, suddenly wondering if he needed to record something down. Could he go grab another tablet and pen? “Can you do me a favor…?” Her voice was strained, barely crawling out of her throat. He paused, wondering if it was rude to glance at her and not the King. “Can you…?” The voice spoke was not of her._

_He didn’t know what to say._

_The King shifted. He saw her tentacles curl around themselves, tightening up until he feared that they were going to tear and break into little chunks._

_“Is he ready?” The King asked. Quirrel reached out and took one of her tentacles, resting it between his claws, the tips not daring to press any more pressure than a feather. He raised his head, only looking at her._

_Her cloak no longer billowed around her in elegance. The light shining in the corner of his eyes did not entice him._

_She looked down at him, her tentacle cupped with the utmost care within his hands. He knelt down onto one knee, pressing a chaste kiss to it. The tip of his nail touched the floor. The weight of her tentacle in his hands increased tenfold, and as he raised his head to look at her mask, light glinted from within._

_Perhaps they weren’t the words she wanted to hear. But he didn’t know what to say._

_“At your service, Madam. What do you need me to do?”_

He flitted his eyes open, the uoma resting against his chest slightly tilting up. The others no longer nudged against him nor nuzzled, bundling up together. He let go of the one in his arms, letting it float away with the others. They watched him and he watched back.

They swam forward and he followed. His legs kicked like second nature, as if he has swum for his entire life. The uomas lead him through the canyons and ravines, the acidic waters whispering continuously in his ears, Quirrel not daring to focus in fear he might lose the uomas.

They all slowed down and scattered, leaving him at the end of a shoreline. Emerging out, his body and hood were completely free of acid, dry as a bone. He glanced back, seeing the uomas and oomas waving. He waved as well, advancing forward.

It didn’t take long for him to reach his destination. An arched doorway decorated with a mask, a pair of eyes with two dots.

_Quirrel…_

He looked behind his shoulder as a thump echoed in the foliage, pleasantly surprised to see a white skull with two horns pop out of the leaves. Ghost seemed to perk up as they saw him as well, leaping off of the cliff and running on over. They bounced up and down in front of him, Quirrel chuckling and waving hello.

“Doesn’t this kingdom just abound with surprises? A building atop an acid lake.” He gestured. It was a breathtaking sight, a sprawling center right on top of the bubbling water. It was certainly something of architectural marvel and one he would be losing his mind over if he didn’t feel so… strange. “Despite the sight, I can’t help but feel… familiarity? Something stirs in my mind, though I can’t yet tell what…”

_Quirrel…_

“I’d thought it my lust for discovery that led me here, but now there seems something else.” Ghost tilted their head, taking out their orange-mottled map. Quirrel noticed that there was a rather prominent white marker in a section colored in pink. The marker was the mask on the doorway.

The Teacher’s Archives.

“This building beckons me.” He murmured, running his fingers over the doorway. Ghost rolled the map back up, following his gaze. The hallway stretched forward and got swallowed up by darkness. Who knows when was the last time somebody turned on the lights inside?

_Quirrel…_

“I can feel it calling… Dare I head in?” Quirrel whispered under his breath, hand resting on his nail. Ghost pulled theirs out and marched forward, the ivory tips of their horns disappearing as well into the shadows. He admired how they seemed to take the unknown with no fear; he quite respected that.

_Quirrel…_

His hand left the doorway, hanging by his side. Who knows what could be inside? With Hallownest, it was full of surprises, necessary to have a weapon at the ready.

Yet, when he took the first step in, he did not draw his nail.

_… Who are you, that leads me to this place?_

_Quirrel…_

_…_

_…_

_… Madam?_

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about how Quirrel came to obtain Monomon's mask and ended up in the Wasteland. Still writing segments of him regaining his memory in various key locations, the Teacher's Archives and Blue Lake being the two most critical. 
> 
> On a side note, have y'all seen the fanmovie "vivi [Hollow Knight spoiler] by m m? This *wrecked* me and still is. I'm still lowkey crying. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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